Blink of an Eye
by Riftshade
Summary: Everything changes. Don't blink, or you may miss it.


Your emergence into the world was a difficult one. Nature was not on your side, lending to the weakness with which you forced your way out of the shell and met the adoring eyes of your parents for the briefest of moments. And brief it was indeed. Barely had you made your first sounds, reached for your mother for the very first time, when a pair of gloved hands encircled your teeny waist. A brilliant light shined in your eyes, and man with a hard brow held you before his face, turning your head with his thumb, studying your every detail before his face contorts to a sneer. "A runt," he says plainly as he all but drops you back into the pen, where your parents quickly move between the two of you, blocking his view and coiling protectively around your minuscule frame. "He won't make much headway in battle. And I doubt you'll sell him for much. Wouldn't try, even if you could. If you want to start this business right, you can't do it with Pokemon like that." At the time, you didn't know what that meant; you understood the words, but the implications laced within them. Oh, but you would in naught but a short amount of time, when their method of handling you included leaving you out in the wild to fend for yourself. A tiny, captive-raised creature, barely a week old, and they left you out in the frozen world, braving the winter storms and larger creatures that may have picked you off, if given the chance. All to preserve the image of those crooked, up-and-coming breeders in the world of Pokemon enthusiasts.

Starvation was imminent. If it wasn't that, or aforementioned larger creatures which did you in, it would be the frigid cold around you, from which there seemed no escape. The closest you found was a pair of garbage cans, littered beneath with old newspapers and a broken box. Not much, but it was far better than facing the unrelenting weather with naught but your failing body. So you propped the boxed against a can, curled up in those dirty papers, and slowly, slowly, closed your eyes…Next time they opened, a pair of arms held you close to the warmth of another living body. Around you was...bright blue, softness, and from above came tender words your exhausted, frail mind could not comprehend. Still you raised your gaze, watched the lips murmur those words, and with every one came a sensation you had thus far never experienced: safety. Security. This human meant you no harm; in fact, she had saved you from a fate most cruel, and that was the final thought in mind before aforementioned exhaustion overcame you, and those eyes closed again.

Her kindness extended further still. Though she clearly had little, as evidenced by her tiny living quarters - barely 300 square feet, decorated with only a small couch, card table and chairs, a tiny television seated upon an end table, and vases full of wild lillies; lillies were her favorite. - she seemed to spare no expense on your account. One evening, you caught her crunching numbers at her table, muttering to herself about costs, bills, and due dates, and the next morning, you were on you way to the Pokemon Center "for a quick check-up", and afterwards it was off to an ice cream shop for treats. This was it, you thought; you'd found your human, and in those next two weeks spent in her company, your attachment only grew. So when she, too, deemed it necessary to leave you out in a field, you took it personally.

To a park, she'd brought you, and as you dozed against her side, you felt her move away, placing a soft cover over your form. With that came the whispered words, "I'm sorry, bud. You're wild - this is where you belong, not cooped up in my little place." And she began to walk away. That jolted you awake. Barely had she made it ten feet away, and you were on her tail, shrieking and bawling as you ran after, clinging tightly to her leg once you reached her and pressing your face against the denim of her pants. It took a moment, but she managed to pry you off, and in her eyes were tears that matched your own. She held you tightly, gently scraping fingertips behind your ears as again she whispered, "Abra, you have to stay. It's...you aren't MINE, this is where you belong." Perhaps it would have hurt you deeply yet again, but you knew the words were hollow. That, you could hear in her voice; you could feel it in her touch as she tried to soothe your woes. Again she brought you to the bench where you both had previously lounged and set you down. She asked you to stay, for your own sake, and began to walk away. You called to her once, but her steps did not falter, so you slipped off the seat to run after her once more. The prior scene repeated itself as you attached yourself to her leg and stared upwards. At first, she did not look at you, merely shut her eyes tightly as her breath hitched. When she finally chanced a glance, you saw the gears turning in her head. Minutes ticked by like hours, and still you clung tightly, until breathed a shaky sigh. A forced smile curled her lips, and she extended her arms to you with a soft, "C'mere." Instantly, you leaped into her grasp. When she lifted you up, you threw both arms around her neck and buried your face against her shoulder. You'd worn her down, it seemed, as her next commentary came as, "I can't afford another mouth to feed. There's barely room in my apartment for me, let alone someone else." Then came a pause and you feared the worst, but her hold on you only tightened in the most comforting manner. "But you know what? I'm going to keep you."

And through the entire walk home (home - you definitely liked the sound of that), she kept sporadically murmuring, "I am so sorry, sweetie. I thought you were - god, I am so sorry." But you had already forgiven her long before that apology came. Of course you did, she was family now. How could you hold it against her?

Over your time together, she began to understand you more, and vice versa. For a while, your inborn ability of telekinesis came in handy for communication, but in time, it turned to signing with your small, three-fingered hands; no secrets, she said, between you two and the world around you, and it weirded her out having someone pry into her thoughts. Fair enough, you thought, whatever she wanted. She may have to translate from time to time, but you could communicate without the frequent need of tapping into a person's mind. Win-win, in her mind. Perhaps best of all, after that, she began to take you everywhere. It didn't matter if you slept the trip away, or if you managed to keep awake to enjoy the goings-on around you, at the time you were just happy to be included, even if you were stuffed into her backpack. Unfortunately, with that came some consequences. Up-and-coming trainers were often ready and overly willing to leap into battle with anyone carting around Pokemon. Understandable, in a way; everyone wanted to prove themselves. Most of the time, his human - Liarin, would decline, claiming she had no interest in such things, nor did she want to put her Pokemon into a fight. He has enough issues, there was no need to go adding more. Besides that, at the time, she hadn't a clue about battling Pokemon, and she wasn't about to dive head-first into something like that. Their challenges happened, once, twice - eventually escalating to a point that it seemed she was constantly rejecting someone, and then one of them made it interesting. A cash reward to the winner; all the money in her wallet for the 200 in his. She went to deny, and you stepped up, using that innate ability to teleport as a method to get yourself to the ground and stand between them. Liarin tried to talk you out of it, but you knew as well as she did that you both needed the money.

So, with no small degree of reluctance, she allowed it. You went through with it, and you won. Much of your ability came from instinct; Liarin merely needed to sit back and watch, and learn that much more about you in the process. What you were truly capable of. Others came after, of course, contributing funds as a reward to the winner, and you fought tooth and nail to ensure that reward went to your human, as it always did - save for those two instances, when the opponent proved to be a bit too much for her comfort and she'd stepped in to stop the match altogether. Apart from those, victory was yours.

Those battles happened often enough that after a while, a change happened upon you. Shortly after the end of a match, you felt it coming on, a power coiling deep inside of you, and when it finally began to dissipate, Liarin looked upon you in surprised awe. No longer were you the little runt she'd stumbled upon near the garbage cans, three times too small for his species and skinny as a bean stalk. No longer were you the short little abra she was able to stick in her backpack and carry around from place to place. Instead, you grew into an impressive specimen. Kadabra. Such a great feeling it was, but after all was said and done, you'd hardly dwelt upon it, your attention fixated on rushing toward your human with the same enthusiasm you'd always shown after a win. She seemed...surprised, at first. One might go so far as to say she seemed off-put, or nervous in your presence now, but you knew better. Of all people in the world, she was the one who would never have anything to fear from you, just as you have nothing to fear from her. You two became an unstoppable pair in the months to pass, working flawlessly in tandem to defeat any opponent foolish enough to throw a challenge your way. They came more and more, particularly in the latter months, when your power grew further, and so too did you. Your head widened further to accommodate the ingenious brain for which your kind is so widely known; the tufts of hair upon your face widen further, the tail disappeared, and two spoons of silver help channel your psychic abilities as you see fit. From a scrawny little Pokemon with little chance of survival, you had transformed into a force to be reckoned with - and you owed it all to the human who had stood at your side through it all. You loved her with all your heart, would do anything she asked of you without so much as a second thought; it is why you would lay down your life for her, if given the chance. She saved your life, after all. It seems only fair that you be willing to do the same for her.

As time passed, your brilliant mind learned more and more. Skills came almost naturally, but it was the every day things with which you become really concerned. In time, you found out precisely why she did not want to link her mind to yours, relying instead on hand signs for communication. She had a secret, one she'd had not the heart to tell, until it was too late: her health was failing. It had been for some time. A disease within her blood was slowly killing her from the inside out, and while doctors had a handle on it, it was not a treatment that would last forever. That also contributed to her lack of funds throughout the months. Much of it was due to utilities and rent, true, but the rest came from medical bills she simply could not pay. That part didn't matter to you. When she sat you down and told you, it - she may as well have ripped your beating heart from your chest right then and there. It would have hurt less than knowing your dearest friend was slowly slipping through your fingers, and there was not a thing you could do about it.

She did her best to save face, always flashing a smile, dragging you places, all the things she'd done before, but eventually, you noticed that it was getting harder for her to do. More often than not, she would end up sending you to the store for things she needed, as the walk was just too much to handle. Sometimes she had to call out of work, eventually quitting that awful job, for the same reason. Every day you opted to spend as much time as possible at her side, and every night, you slept close, with your forehead pressed between her shoulder blades, savoring that bit of comfort that yes, she was still there. She hadn't left you yet. Everything you could do for her, you did, sometimes because she couldn't, sometimes to see her smile again. You lived for that, really. She had it just as rough as you did; it was a privilege to earn a smile. But as days passed by, her condition grew worse. Both of you knew it would.

And at her funeral, it was only her mother, three siblings, and you. Afterwards, they went home, even invited you along, but you refused, opting instead to spend the evening there, curled up in the grass. By her side just one last time. Amazing it is how things can change in the blink of an eye, that something unseen can rip everything away all at once. Your home, your family now lay buried in the ground, surviving only in vivid memories you replay when the heartache begins to overwhelm. She is still with you, though; you know it. Whether in your heart, your mind, or in the world around you, you feel her there with you, watching and supporting you as she had in life. One night, you'd even dreamed you felt her arms around you again, pulling you into the bear-hug she'd been so fond of; another night, it was a vision of that day she'd held you close and talked you down when the motion of a jostling bus had proved too much for your senses to handle. Yes, she was there through everything, through your aimless travels, even if you couldn't see her - so, you make sure she can see you.

That has garnered you a reputation in your hometown; people around town speak of it, that three specific nights out of the year, an alakazam spends the night in the cemetery, chattering away to one specific headstone. He's a strong one, too, but none who have tried have been able to capture him. On his wrist is a charm bracelet, adorned with an array of hearts, flowers, and one larger charm resembling a Pokeball; in one hand, he holds both of his trademark spoons, while the other grasps a small bouquet of white lillies, which he lays at the base of the headstone.

Lillies were her favorite, after all...


End file.
